


A Haunted 2019

by EchoingHowls



Category: Banana Bus Squad, The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Haunted 2019, Join me!, Multi, TW at the beginning of every chapter, Updating character tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-10-25 05:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 12,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20718554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoingHowls/pseuds/EchoingHowls
Summary: A series of terrifying shorts following the prompts in the first chapter!Join me in this month of spooky shorts and tag it "Haunted 2019" so everyone can read it! <3





	1. Prompt List

Hello everyone!

Please join me if you want to follow my prompts and we can explore just how terrifying we can make this month!

-

Day 1: Moon  
Day 2: Pumpkin  
Day 3: Sweets  
Day 4: Goo  
Day 5: Wolf  
Day 6: Cat  
Day 7: Ghosts  
Day 8: Rats  
Day 9: Crumble  
Day 10: Fungus  
Day 11: Glow  
Day 12: Hallucinations  
Day 13: Witch  
Day 14: Skeletons  
Day 15: Blood  
Day 16: Crow  
Day 17: Graveyard  
Day 18: Bandages  
Day 19: Sharp  
Day 20: Stitches  
Day 21: Spiderweb  
Day 22: Balloons  
Day 23: Masks  
Day 24: Time  
Day 25: Shadows  
Day 26: Burn  
Day 27: Glass  
Day 28: Movie  
Day 29: Apocalypse  
Day 30: Trapped  
Day 31: Your Choice/ Dark-


	2. Death Sentence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Death**)

**Day 1: Moon**

The sky was draped in inky blackness, speckled with stars like moth holes. The full moon hung heavy in the fabric of the sky, illuminating the world beneath it like a bored god.   
Everyone could sense it.  
The watching of the mon’s gaze as some meandered the streets.  
The silvery stare as a few dashed between trees and played a game too late in the night.  
The silent judgment as others couldn’t close their eyes from their beds.  
The moon watched and stared.  
Several others stared back.

“I always feel uneasy on the full moon.”  
A group of three boys trudged across the sidewalk, kicking at the dead and dying leaves that scratched at the concrete or the occasional pebble that had managed to get lost in the cement.   
“We all do,”  
Another boy said, his hands tucked into his red hoodie.  
“That’s what happens when you’re convinced monsters exist as a kid. Every full moon you feel like you’re being hunted.”  
The third boy huffed, readjusting his Finn hat to cover his ears.  
“Every shadow is a demon,”  
The boy in the red hoodie added. The tallest boy and the first one to speak continued,  
“And every noise is a-”  
_Snap._  
The sound of a broken twig cracked from the dense forest that edged the sidewalk.  
“Death sentence.”  
The three said at the same time.

They looked at one another before quickening their steps.

“Hey, Tyler,”  
The boy in the Finn hat asked, glancing over his shoulder before back at the tallest kid,  
“Can we stay at your place?”  
Tyler swallowed before nodding,  
“‘Course, it's not too far.”  
The three boys walked in the silence of the nighttime breezes, the rustling of the trees and branches washing out their footsteps on the concrete. 

The moon watched the boys and other children in their late-night antics.  
The moon watched a shape dart through the foliage.  
The moon watched the children’s cries of joy turn to fear.

The boy in the red hoodie stopped.  
Tyler and the other boy paused before glancing back at him.  
“Evan? You okay?”  
Tyler asked.  
“Did you guys hear that?”  
Evan questioned softly, staring into the forest.  
“Hear what?”  
The boy in the Finn hat asked.  
Evan hesitated, then continued walking again.  
“I thought I heard a scream,”  
He answered finally.  
“It was probably a dog,”  
Tyler reasoned, gesturing at the next neighborhood,  
“Let’s just get inside.”

The moon watched as the giggling children fell silent.  
The moon watched as the creature feasted.  
The moon watched as blood stained her world.

Shadows grew darker as the boys walked.  
Evan’s brow furrowed and he looked at the sky in confusion before his eyes widened.  
“G-guys?”  
“What?”  
The other two asked, turning to look where Evan was staring.  
The moon was turning red.

“Was there supposed to be an eclipse tonight, Marcel?”  
Tyler asked, turning to look at the boy in the Finn hat.  
“I didn’t hear anyone mention it…”  
Marcel said, his eyes wide at the bleeding moon.  
There was another snap of a broken twig in the forest.  
The boys looked at one another before running.

A snarl tore the night air behind them.  
The boys’ hearts thudded as they ran as fast as they could.  
Evan’s lungs poured air in and out in panic-fueled adrenaline.  
Claws scratched the sidewalk behind them as the beast ran to catch them.  
The moon watched solemnly as her sight was corrupted with the blood of the children.

“Here!”  
Tyler shouted, swerving to run toward the side of his house.  
They wouldn’t have enough time to unlock the door.   
“My window is open, climb up!”  
Tyler gripped a handful of golden and fiery leaves, pulling himself up the wall of dying vines as fast as he could.  
Marcel was quick to follow, launching himself as high as he could before grabbing fistfuls of the vines.  
Evan locked his eyes on the wall, trying to ignore the hot and reeking breath on the back of his neck.  
_He was going to make it_  
_He was going to make it_  
_He was going to-_

Evan leaped and grabbed the vines.  
Yes! He had made it!  
He climbed the wall faster than he ever had before, his blood rushing too fast and his heart racing loud enough to blot out the angry snarls and hisses from below.   
Tyler and Marcel reached the bedroom, and when Evan reached the edge of the window they grabbed his arms to haul him inside.  
He scoffed in relief, Marcel already giggling from the chase.  
His pants snagged on something.

Evan’s smile fell and he looked back down the wall to see what he was caught on.  
It was the monster.  
A black as ink demon with a canine skull bleached white except for the blood that stained its teeth.  
Long, fingered claws branched out from its forelegs and its back legs were hooves that still rested on the ground.  
The claws were stabbed into his jeans.  
“Shit…”  
Evan hissed, staring dumbfounded at the monster.  
It growled, the eyeless sockets of its skull boring into his very soul.  
“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”  
He cursed, trying to kick the demon off.  
“Pull me in! Pull me in!”  
Evan screamed, trying and failing to struggle free.  
“We can’t!”  
Marcel shouted.  
“PULL ME IN!!”  
Evan screeched, kicking at the skull with his other foot.  
The demon bit it off in one snap.  
Evan let out a bloodcurdling shriek.  
The demon pulled his claws closer, dragging Evan out of his friend’s grasp.  
“Evan!”  
Tyler screamed, trying to secure his feet so he wouldn’t be dragged out the window too.  
Evan just screamed again as the demon tore him away.  
Marcel caught Tyler before he could fall too, then slammed the window closed.  
“No! Evan! We have to save him!”  
Tyler yelled, trying to force the window back open.  
“We can’t! It’ll kill us too!”  
Marcel yelled back, managing to drag the taller boy away from the window.  
They could still hear Evan screaming.  
It didn’t last much longer.

The moon watched as the demon hunted those who idled outside.  
The moon watched the blood from the children and teens pool like paint splotches.  
The moon watched two boys cry over their friend.  
The moon watched as the demon retreated with the first breath of morning.  
The moon slept as the sun woke the parents to their grief.


	3. Frankenstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Death**)

**Day 2: Pumpkin**

The neighborhood was cast in bright golden light as the sun began its descent. Leaves the same color as the dying sun rustled and crackled in the dusk breeze, the trees looking aflame with their dances.  
Webs and skeletons littered the front lawns of the houses, witches and lights joining in the crowded decorations as the homeowners attempted to frighten children.  
Carved pumpkins stood like gaurds in front of doors, fangs and cruel expressions carved into the gourds.  
A group of four boys and a girl rode their bikes down the hill into the neighborhood, their feet working the pedals to their max speed even as the decorations flashed past in a blur.  
One of the taller boys began to pull ahead, and a smaller one let put a shout,  
“Oi! Matt! You’re cheating!”  
“It’s not cheating if I’m faster than you Mason!”  
Mason let out an annoyed huff and tried to pedal faster before the boy in a knight helmet beside him slammed on his breaks.  
“Guys, we almost missed Cam’s house!”  
He called out to the boys and girl who were still pedaling. The other four come to a screeching halt, Mason hitting his break so hard he almost toppled over his handlebars, but he steadied himself.  
When the five teens stopped in front of one of the houses, they were face-to-face with a mock graveyard and several standing skeletons. A few of them had fangs like dead vampires, another one with a witches hat and broom discarded beside it.  
“Where’s Cam?”  
Asked one of the boys beside Mason, his dark hair flicking in the dusk breeze,  
“Wasn’t he supposed to meet us out here?”  
“Maybe he’s inside?”  
Asked the girl with a shrug.  
The five teens agreed to go and ring the doorbell, walking past a skeleton sitting in a chair near the door.  
When the girl rang the bell, the skeleton jumped up with a scream.

All five shrieked right back, and Mason was about to throw his fist at the skeleton when it took off its mask with a cackling laugh.  
“Cam?”  
All five teens said at once.  
“You- you should’ve seen your face…”  
Cameron wheezed between his laughter.

“You’re an asshole!”  
The teen in the knight helmet shouted, his arms crossed as he glared at the half skeleton.  
“Let’s go carve pumpkins before Swagger kills us,”  
Matt joked, pushing through the front door as Cam continued to recover his breath. Swagger, the boy in the knight helmet, shoved Cam with his shoulder before walking inside.  
Cameron watched after the knight before glancing at the girl, the only one who was still outside.  
“Was it that bad, Toby?”  
Toby shook her head with a smile,  
“No, you know he just hates being scared. I thought it was really clever!”  
Cameron’s face lit up before he ushered Toby inside,  
“Hurry up! Before they take the good pumpkins!”  
“Too late!”  
Swagger yelled, his smirk audible.

Cam rolled his eyes, but still let Toby pick her pumpkin first. Then, they all headed to Cam’s backyard to start carving (because they knew how messy and chaotic it would get).  
Sure enough, a few minutes later and half of their pumpkins were scalped, with fistfuls of pumpkin guts being thrown at one another. Swagger had taken off his helmet after the first glob was thrown at Matt, pushing it away just as pumpkin innards and seeds slapped his face.  
“You’re next Jay!”  
He yelled, finishing cutting off the top of his pumpkin before plunging his fist inside and hurling the glob at the boy that ducked behind Mason with a cackle. Instead, the guts hit Mason in the back of the head, and the fight continued.  
The sun had fully set and the six of them relied on the back porch lights to see, but they finally finished gutting their pumpkins and were now taking turns with a marker and the blade to cut their faces.

It didn’t take too much longer for the carving to continue like clockwork, the teens carrying their usual conversation despite the pumpkin guts that littered the lawn and each other.  
Swagger’s pumpkin had a rough graveyard scene, Matt with a classic pumpkin grin, Mason had a sort of creature with as many fangs he could carve into its mouth, Jay had carved a cat, and Toby had carved out a “hot witch” as she called it. Cam had carved a vampire face onto his, and as their group began to bike to their separate houses, he set his pumpkin out on the porch.

The full moon light illuminated the teen and pumpkin as Cam waved his friends goodbye.  
The pumpkin’s carved out eyes shifted to watch Cam walk back inside.

Cam crawled into bed, checking his phone to see all the messages from the group chat titled “MISFITS”. Everyone else had sent a picture of their pumpkins stationed in either their kitchen or their rooms.  
**Fitz**:_I put mine outside_  
**Toby**:_Send us a pic!_  
**Fitz**:_I didn’t take a picture_  
**Swagger**:_Then take one_  
**Fitz**:_But that’s all the way downstairs! I just got in bed_  
**Jay**:_Just go down!_  
**Mason**:_Quit being a lazy cunt!_  
**Fitz**:_I’ll just take a picture in the morning_  
**Jay**:_LLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMEEEEE_  
**Fitz**:_You can’t even see it in the dark!_  
**Swagger**:_Then put a candle in it you lazy fuck_  
**Fitz**:_>:( fine_

Cam sat up with a huff, throwing his blankets off before dashing down the steps.  
The faster he took the picture the faster he could go back to bed.  
He used the light from his phone to dig through the drawers in one of the cupboards, finding a candle that looked stable enough to sit in the pumpkin without falling.  
He grabbed it and a lighter, then shrugged on his jacket from earlier and opened the front door.

He turned to uncap his pumpkin, but it was gone.  
“The fuck?”  
He breathed, looking around his yard for any sign of it.  
It was too heavy to just roll away… and he doubted anyone would want a shitty carved pumpkin.  
He looked around for a moment more, then went back inside.  
He dropped the candle and lighter on the counter and checked his phone.  
There was a new message.  
**Swagger**:_Hurry you slow fuck_

He huffed before typing out an answer.  
**Fitz**:_It’s gone_  
**Toby**:_What is?_  
**Fitz**:_My pumpkin_  
**Matt**:_Did someone steal it?_  
**Fitz**:_Doubt it, you saw how bad it was._  
**Jay**:_True_  
**Toby**:_True_  
**Swagger**:_True_  
**Mason**:_True_  
**Matt**:_True_  
**Fitz**:_Shut up all of you_

Cam sighed and turned his phone off before giving up and trudging back upstairs. He flopped onto his bed and curled up, ignoring the dings from his phone.  
The moon cast her light into his room.  
A shadow flickered past his window.  
He squinted at the glass, then turned over.  
It was probably just a bird.  
The rustling of the trees outside grew louder as a heavy gust of wind pulled on them.  
His bedside lamp flickered on for just a moment.

“The hell?”  
He mumbled, squinting at the light fixture.  
It flickered again, this time flashing like an alarm for a moment before it blinked out.  
Then it turned on.  
A figure loomed over his bed.  
Its body was thin and dark, like its clawed fingers and limbs were twisted from ancient vines.  
Its head was a pumpkin.  
A pumpkin with an eerily familiar carving and fangs that were sharper than Cam remembered.  
““̸̟͒͘͜T̶͖̉ͅh̴̼̖͝ȃ̸̰̳͝n̴̮̒̌k̴̘ ̶͕̈́y̵͚̏͘ò̴̜͓ǘ̶ ̷̖̳͋f̶̱̆o̴̧͈̔r̷̘̥̚ ̵̼͐ṃ̸̃ͅy̷̘̿ ̸̦̒̓l̶͕͊i̸f̴̜̬͊e̵͓̞̔,”  
The creature crowed, its voice gravely and dark,  
“A̵͎̖̅s̷̗͒ ̶̞͕̔p̴͙̄a̵͍̐y̷͆m̸̼͓̓̓e̵͉͇͛ṇ̶̓͜͝ẗ̶̓ ̵̩̣́͂Ǐ̶̺̥ ̵̃̊ͅẁ̷͔͖̈́i̷̥̋l̵̨̰̚͘l̵͈̭̏ ̷̣̥̉ẗ̸͕́̀ȧ̵̢͔k̴̢̛̾ȅ̴̙̫͑ ̵̗̍y̸̎o̴͉͘u̴͎͛́r̶͔̼͆̎s̴͉͂̈́.”  
Cam screamed as the monster lunged.

When the full moon set, Cam lay still and bloodless in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The scary text at the end says_  
"Thank you for my life"  
"As payment I will take yours"  
_In case you couldn't read it <3_


	4. Chocolate For Sale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Slight blood**)

**Day 3: Sweets**

The sun was bright as it glinted off the puddles that dappled the sidewalk.  
The rain from last night had gifted the neighborhood with a coat of cool breezes, dead, scarlet-colored leaves joining the water in gutters and along the roadside.

A boy walked down the street with a basket.

He walked down the middle of the road, looking like he was still clinging to the last breaths of spring in his outfit. He wore a yellow raincoat, with a few droplets still on it from the night before. His face was shielded from the bright sun by a matching yellow cap, and he stepped through shallow puddles in matching rain boots.  
He had a wicker basket clutched in his fingers, gripped with both hands like he was scared the gentle breeze would carry it away.  
When he reached the end of the road, he turned right and headed toward the first house.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently for it to open.  
When it did, he spoke softly,  
“Hello, would you like to buy some chocolate?”  
The door slammed in his face.

The boy made no noise or visible expression, just walked back down the porch and to the next house.  
He walked up the pathway and knocked on the door.  
When the woman opened the door, he said,  
“Hello, would you like to buy some chocolate?”  
The woman said sweetly,  
“Sorry young man, but I can’t right now. Maybe next time.”  
The woman muttered a goodbye before closing the door.  
The boy walked back down the path.

Again, he knocked on the door and again his chocolate was dismissed.  
When nobody answered the doors he waited fifteen minutes or until they threw something at the window he stood by.  
He had no reaction, just walked down the steps and approached the next house.  
When he finished one side of the street, he crossed without a glance toward traffic and began the other side.  
Again, and again.

When still no one had wanted his desserts he walked down the middle of the road.  
A car honked at him before just swerving past.

The next neighborhood he asked, most didn’t open their doors.

He walked down the middle of the street.

Apologies and lies.

Middle of the street.  
A driver who wasn’t paying attention drove right through him.

More unanswered knocks.  
His chocolate was melting.

He stalked down the middle of the street.  
The sun was beginning to set.

He hunted down the houses that cars approached.  
More apologies and dismissals.

He limped down the middle of the street.  
The sun bled across the clouds.

He spotted movement in a window.  
It was the only house left with its lights on as the sun sank to her grave, the sky dim in its mourning.  
A few stars ignited as the sky’s parting gift.  
The boy slunk up to the house, staring at the windows into the warmth inside.  
There was a woman, smiling as she unpacked things from boxes.  
The boy walked around a moving van.  
On the newly painted door was a note.

_”Do not buy any chocolate from any children this time of year. It’s not what you think.”_   
_~Your New Neighbors_

The boy glanced at the note.  
He blinked and the parchment was torn to shreds on the doorstep.  
When he knocked, the woman answered.  
“Hello, would you like to buy some chocolate?”  
The boy asked.  
“Oh! Well, I could never pass on my favorite sweets!”  
The woman chirped happily,  
“Let me grab some money. How much?”  
She glanced up to see the boy smiling at her.  
She shrieked.

His skin was pulled back to expose his needle-sharp teeth, his smile reaching his ears as his black, empty eyes stared at the woman.   
“J̸̰̥͉̲̰̥͍̩̇̉̐̐u̶̪̠̹̮̱̻̥͗̈͊̃͛̏ͅs̸͍͐̎t̷̝̰̜̫̉̿͒̀͐͝͠ ̸̨̔̄͛̅̿̕͝ỳ̸̥̪̝͚̔o̴̠̤͍͑̒́̆̈́̐̕͘͜ụ̵̡̠̦̭̯̗͐̓̆̈́̆͝r̸̢̢̜̫̿̈ ̸̙̳̤͎̣̒̈́̉̑s̶̨̖̺̙̤͌͗̈́͂̈́̂̐o̷̢̖̮̪͙̜̤̓̅͒͂̂̕u̷͔̟͉̦̮̼̿l̴̢̬̮̖͖͕̰̹̎̒̒͜.”

He croaked. The woman screamed again before it was cut off.  
Her door stood open as the boy walked down her steps.  
Blood dripped down the door frame as the boy knocked on the next door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The end text says_  
"Just your soul"  
_In case you can't read it <3_


	5. Too Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Zombies**)

**Day 4: Goo**

No one was sure when the infection began.  
When the slime started seeping through people’s veins.  
When their organs dissolved and their corpses became the hidden carriers.  
No one knew.  
No one could tell.  
Until it was too late.

By the time the disease was found, it was far too late for its carriers.  
Far too late to stop the hoards.  
They were called zombies after the monsters of tale.  
And for much of the world, it was too late.

Evan paced around their camp.  
The gun he had only fired a few times before was locked in his grip, his anxiety still tossing around the millions of ways he could be infected and not know it.  
What if something he ate had traces of the slime?  
One of his wounds had been infected with the goo by accident? Without him or his boyfriend knowing?  
“Evan.”  
The man froze at his name, turning to see the taller watching him worriedly.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Do you want the truth?”  
Tyler sighed before mumbling,  
“Of course.”  
“No,”  
Evan quipped, staring at the ground instead of the man in front of him,  
“I’m not okay. I’m fucking terrified.”  
Tyler sighed, putting his gun down and opening his arms to his boyfriend.  
“Come here.”  
Evan shuffled toward Tyler’s arms, letting the taller man hug him tightly before whimpering,  
“I’m so scared Tyler. I don’t want to die.”  
“We aren’t going to die.”  
“You don’t know that.”  
A heavy silence drenched the room.  
Dripped and soaked the concrete bunker until it slunk around the taller’s bloodstream.

“Evan,”  
Tyler cooed,  
“Do you trust me?”  
Evan hesitated only a second before nodding.  
“Then you know I won’t let them hurt you, right? That I’ll protect you until my blood turns black with slime?”  
Evan sniffled, a stray tear slipping down his cheek as he nodded again.  
“Good.”  
Tyler lifted Evan’s chin with his finger, wiping away his tear before pressing a soft kiss to Evan’s lips.  
Tyler held back his own tears as he felt the monster inside him slip silently into Evan.  
Evan wouldn’t know for a while longer.  
It would be a few days until he felt his blood grow thick and sluggish.  
A few more until he realized his flesh was cold.  
Tyler wasn’t sure how long he had until he felt the burn of his innards dying as the slime took control.  
Or how long until his eyes turned pale and he started trying to find other carriers.

But what he did know, was that when he had been bitten by the long-dead Delirious…  
It was too late.


	6. Terror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Brief mention of car crash**)

**Day 5: Wolf**

Panic.  
Fear and adrenaline fueling every leaping step.  
Every desperate breath.  
Every drop of blood.

Smitty doesn’t remember ever feeling so much dread.  
Feeling like every step and breath and blink is his last.  
Every thud of his heart is the final beat.  
He couldn’t let the vampire catch him.

He remembers running.  
Feeling free as the wind whipped through his fur and his paws hit confidently on the dirt and grass of the forest.  
Letting his howls carry over the hills as the moon illuminated the night.  
Letting the stars lead his paws and carry his soul into confident journeys.

So why was it, the moment the sun came out, he was running for his life?  
He was still a wolf.  
He would be until his body was on its last drops of blood, and then he would shift human as he died.  
That was, if he made it without getting mauled.  
If he died as a wolf, his friends would never find his body.  
His mom would be worried sick until she pulled her own hair out worrying about him.  
His boyfriend would lose himself in the vape clouds he blew so perfectly.  
He couldn’t let that happen.  
He could die.  
But not right now.

Smitty felt his paws speed up.  
Felt his lungs force more oxygen through his body as his heart hammered through his ears.  
The vampire behind him was impossibly swift.  
He could hear the monster hissing at him as it neared.  
Smitt broke through the forest cover and into daylight, his paws skidding on asphalt as he turned to stare at the demon that couldn’t touch him anymore.  
He stared as he caught his breath.

Then his heart froze.  
He knew those eyes.  
Those bleached locks.  
And especially that hoodie.  
The hoodie he had stolen so many times before.  
“John?”  
The heavily-breathing vampire narrowed his eyes before they widened in shock.  
“_Jaren??_”  
Smitty hardly understood him, but he knew.  
They both did.

Pain exploded through Smitty’s body before the world fell dark.  
He hadn’t heard the truck’s horn.  
He heard John scream his name, then a shriek of pain like the vampire had tried to step into the late morning light.  
Then, he smelled burning and felt a hand run through his fur.  
“Jare- Smitty! Please be okay!”  
Smitt could hardly open his eyes, but when he did, he saw a blistering vampire crying over him.  
“John…”  
He breathed, and the vampire glanced at him.  
“Go… back… you’ll die…”  
John roughly wiped his tears away before shaking his head.  
“No. I won’t leave you.”  
“John…”  
“Shut up! If you die, I’m dying too!”

Smitty huffed before closing his eyes.  
He hated his boyfriend sometimes.  
He stumbled to his paws, ignoring the burning in his ribs as they healed themselves.  
John stared at him like he had just risen from the dead.  
“Let’s… get you to the shade… you dramatic… idiot.”  
He grumbled between breaths, picking up John’s hood between his teeth and carrying him back to the forest.  
When they reached the shadows, Smitty placed John gently on the ground before plopping down.  
They were quiet for a minute before Smitty huffed,  
“What, no thank you?”  
John, who had been staring at the werewolf, narrowed his gaze.  
“Fuck you.”  
Smitty giggled as his body finished its healing.  
John’s skin was already almost perfect again.  
“Only if you want to.”  
John looked ready to make another snide remark, but instead, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He crawled over to Smitty, laying on the giant wolf.  
“I thought you were going to die…”  
“But I didn’t.”  
John was quiet for another few moments.  
Sirens began to wail in the distance as they approached the totaled truck.

“I hate you, you blood bastard.”  
Smitty huffed a while later. John scoffed at the nickname.  
“Sorry, if I had known it was you I would’ve gone for the blood bank.”  
“Oh yes, because if it had been any of my packmates you would’ve killed them just fine.”  
“I said I was sorry! I ran out of blood bags last night and with the full moon-”  
“Oh my god, you’re fine. I knew you didn’t do it on purpose.”  
The two stared at a moment before John flopped back into Smitty’s fur.  
“Two words. Fuck. You.”  
“Listen, you know I’m not against that but I really don’t have enough energy to shift right now.”  
The only response Smitty got was a middle finger as he cackled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I got you!  
You thought it would be sad and I made it cute >:)


	7. Witch!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: None :)**)

**Day 6: Cat**

The sun illuminated the small village, giving light to the merchants who set up their shops on main street.   
A fall breeze rustled and pulled at the surrounding forest.  
A few horses pulled a carriage of supplies across the cobble road.  
A rooster crowed in the distance.

People emerged from their houses, the fresh early-morning air giving signs of the incoming frost.   
The people pulled their hats on tight and wrapped their coats tighter around them.  
Several women tucked babies closer to their chests to keep them warm.  
Children ran down the street and around horses, watching their pinwheels spin and giggling with mirth.

A leaf tumbled over the cobbled stones as the market began to fill with life.  
It scratched weakly at a few pebbles before small paws pounced on the golden leaf.  
Amber eyes peered over the black paws, pupils wide with giddy excitement as the wind picked up.  
The paws released, and the wind carried the leaf away.  
Instantly the feline bounded after it, pouncing again and missing, swiping at the leaf as it was picked up into the morning breeze.  
Finally, the cat caught the leaf again, purring with contentment at the game.  
“Hey! Scram you nasty stray!”  
A broom was shoved against the cat, who let out an annoyed yowl before scrambling off. He squinted back at the shopkeeper before swerving into the crowd.  
The people parted when they saw him.

“Shit a black cat!”  
“The witch’s cat!”  
“Oh, bad luck! Bad luck!”  
“Do you think it belongs to the witch?”

The feline ignored their cries. He just needed to escape as soon as-  
A hand grabbed his scruff, and the black cat was forced to stare at a gruff-looking man.  
“Oi! You work for the witch that cursed us, don’t you?”  
When the cat didn’t say anything, the man shook him.  
“Go on, tell me!”  
The feline hissed, scratching at the man’s face.  
The man dropped him with a holler, and the moment his paws landed he bolted.  
Screams called after him.

“Catch the cat!”  
“It’ll lead us to the witch!”  
“Burn the witch! Burn the cat!”

The feline managed to duck under booths and through legs as the mob was caught on the rest of the market crowd.  
He glanced over his shoulder before escaping into the woods.  
He leaped over rocks and darted through ferns before he came to a small house.  
Ivy grew along its wooden walls, and dozens of wildflowers dappled the small glade.  
A thin trail of smoke drifted through the chimney.

The cat leaped through an open window and landed on a bed before shifting human in a cloud of smoke.  
His cloak hood hung haphazardly over his face, and he shook it off with a huff.  
“Jesus, they are _really_ pissed today.”

“Back from the market already, Evan?”  
Evan turned toward the door, where another teen was standing with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow.  
“Hey! I was going to pick up some spices for some potions!”  
“And how did that go?”  
“I don’t need your sarcasm Tyler.”  
Tyler chuckled before plopping next to Evan, ruffling his hair more than the cloak had already.  
“Did you get distracted with another leaf?”  
Evan hissed before swatting at Tyler’s hand, Tyler erupting into laughter as the teen pouted.

“So much for our cursing potion,”  
Evan huffed after Tyler calmed down.  
“You mean the love potion Brian asked for?”  
Tyler asked with a tilt of his head.  
“Yeah,”  
Evan scoffed,  
“The village is convinced we’ve cursed them. Suddenly teens are disappearing! Oh no! It’s the witches!!”  
“I mean, we do help them escape,”  
Tyler shrugged.   
“After we make them fall in love,”  
Evan winked,  
“Who knew running off to be gay could inspire the rest of them?”

“Me.”  
“You didn’t know shit,”  
Evan giggled as Tyler leaned close. They shared a soft kiss before Tyler mumbled,  
“Vanoss brought us a rabbit for dinner.”  
Evan hummed before asking,  
“Did you cook it?”  
Tyler scoffed before saying,  
“I’m not letting you almost burn down the cabin again.”  
“Fair.”


	8. Bored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: None :)**)

**Day 7: Ghosts**

The neighborhood glowed as the sun set, casting her gold light onto buildings and faces as people retired to their homes for the night.  
Pumpkins rested outside doors like gargoyles, and the leaves rustled an ancient tune as the wind made them dance.  
A few stars glistened on the horizon, letting the world below know that night was falling.

Inside a basement sat a group of boys, idly playing cards or hanging upside down from the torn and ancient sofas. An old radio was quietly playing some Halloween songs in the middle of the room.

“Brock, I’m booooored,”  
Said one boy in a blue hoodie from where he hung upside down.  
A boy with a mohawk looked up from his cards with a smile,  
“Hi bored, I’m dad.”  
The boy in the blue hoodie groaned before sliding onto the floor face-first. The boy in the red hoodie beside him chuckled before sitting up.  
“Get off the floor dumbass.”  
“Sh-shut up Cartoonz.”  
The boy in the blue grumbled.  
“Fine, Delirious,”  
Cartoonz said with a smirk,  
“Eat all the damn dust bunnies, I don’t care.”  
Delirious shot up with a shriek, quickly brushing all the dust off his hoodie before glaring at Cartoonz.  
“D-damned hootchie.”

“I’m bored too,”  
The boy across from Brock huffed, dropping his cards as he turned toward the two by the sofa.  
“We should do somthin.”  
“Like what?”  
Cartoonz asked, shifting to face the other boys.  
“Any ideas, Brian?”  
Brock asked the boy as he adjusted his leather jacket.  
“I dunno, but I don’t want to sit down here anymore.”  
“T-To the surface!”  
Delirious yelled suddenly, lifting his fist in the air before bolting up the stairs.

“Hey, wait up!”  
Brian called after him, Brock and Cartoonz soon to follow.  
When they reached the top of the stairs, Delirious was wandering into the kitchen.  
“D-Do you th-think they’re still awake?”  
He asked, glancing around the quiet house suspiciously.  
“Does it matter?”  
Brian huffed, pulling open the fridge to scan for snacks.

“Hey!”  
Brock huffed, stalking toward Brian and slamming the fridge closed.  
“No stealing. We said we were only using this place to hide until the hunters leave our usual hideout.”  
“But I’m huuuuuungry!”  
Brian whined, trying to reach around Brock for the fridge handle.  
“No, you’re not! You’re just bored.”  
Brian huffed as the light flicked on in the kitchen.  
All the boys froze.  
“Hello?”  
A boy about their age with wispy white hair peered around the corner, his 3D glasses almost falling off his nose.  
“Hm, I thought I heard someone…”  
He mumbled, stepping further into the kitchen.  
Delirious stared wide-eyed as the boy stepped nearer to him, scrambling to get out of his way. When the boy approached Brian, he rolled his eyes.  
The boy walked through him.  
Brian shuddered at the sensation, and the boy shivered and rubbed his arms.  
“Let’s just scare him off,”  
Brian muttered, watching the boy continue to investigate the kitchen.  
“No! This is his house!”  
Brock scolded.  
“Then let’s just get out of here,”  
Cartoonz quipped, moving out of the way of the boy as he reached for the pantry door.  
However, he froze and turned back toward the boys, squinting before rubbing his neck.  
“I must be losing my mind…”

“Y-yeah, you better! We-we’re- we are damned ghosts!”  
Delirious cackled. The boy paled, looking around the room more frantically.  
“Okay, now I know you’re there. Just come out!”  
Brian groaned before picking up a mug from the sink. There were still traces of coffee on the inside.  
“Ooh. So spooky. Haunted cup.”  
He mumbled as he moved the cup around in the air, the boy staring wide-eyed at the mug as it floated.  
“Shit…”  
He cursed under his breath, moving closer to the pantry.  
“I-I’ll call John, he knows how to get rid o-of ghosts!”  
The boy shouted into the kitchen, his voice trembling almost as bad as his hands as he gripped the pantry door handle.

“Let’s leave him alone,”  
Brock whispered, grabbing the mug from Brian and putting it back on the counter.  
“Aw, b-but I-I love haunt- I love haunting this d-damned house!”  
Cartoonz rolled his eyes fondly as he dragged Delirious by his hoodie sleeve toward the front door.

They all through it, stepping into the autumn night chill and the moonlight.  
“N-now what?”  
Delirious whined, yanking his sleeve from Cartoonz’s grip.  
“Now we find someplace else to wait out the hunters at the ol’ haunted house,”  
Brock sighed.

As the four boys walked down the sidewalk, they cast no shadows.


	9. Don't Hate Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: >:D**)

Day 8: Rats

Oh **rats** I seemed to have misplaced this short! :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _We will be back to our usually programmed shorts tomorrow! Sorry I've been a bit late the past couple days <3_


	10. Gift of the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Depressive tones and slight car crash**)

**Day 9: Crumble**

The moon glistened over perfect marble.  
The pillars were erect and pristine, allowing the building they stood before to be shrouded in the excellence its creators desired.   
Every cut of stone was delicate and exact, every measurement purposeful to ensure its perfection.

However, behind the perfect building with its perfect pillars, behind the glowing marble and shimmering ivory was a very imperfect shamble of rotting wood and crumbling stone.  
An ancient statue that had been long forgotten stood alone in a pile of wreckage, the crumbling remains of another nearby.  
The broken statue was a little more than dust and pebbles, but the quiet remnants of the once carefully carved face was faint.  
The other stood sorrowfully, rats scurrying near its base and weeds rummaging through the once regal floor that had rotten away to nothing more than fertilizer.  
If you managed to approach the statue through the weeds and tangled briars, then you would see a very worn and faded plaque beneath the rain-eroded statue.  
Evan Fong.

Evan watched the birds fly over him, and the rats scurry beneath. He had watched the sky change color thousands of times, and traced the sun and moon as long as they were visible between the mangled and twisted branches that had replaced the once gorgeous building around him. 

He had once had someone with him as the beauty deteriorated, the only one who could understand him and that made his marble heart swell and his cold stone feel warm.  
Tyler Wine.  
An yet, his base was just off-balance enough to topple over after a particularly bad storm.  
Evan could still hear his smooth as ivory voice.  
Could still hear the shatter of his love.

Evan was sure that if he was capable he would have cried.  
He would have cried for hours and hours, months and months.  
Forever and ever until his own tears deteriorated him enough to join his love.  
To join his Tyler.

Thunder crackled in the distance, and Evan watched the clouds overhead shroud the moon with their presence.  
The wind pulled and tousled at the vines that arched over trees.  
As the sky opened and wept over him, he imagined the rain as his tears.  
He could feel the slight acidity eating away at him.  
He wanted the wind to blow harder.  
He wanted to fall.  
He wanted to crumble to dust and join his love.

Headlights swerved and drifted down the slick road.  
The tires slid as the car neared the iridescent marble building.  
The driver swerved toward the thicket on the side of the road, the car lunging forward and snapping brambles and vines.  
When it collided with a statue, it finally stopped.

The stone had cracked and crumbled to pieces with the impact.  
The driver got out to inspect the damage as the storm rumbled.  
Two hands of different stone held each other, and through the wind, whispered their thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! I'll be catching up as best I can for the next few days <3


	11. Unrequited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Hanaki Disease (Blood and depressing themes)**)

**Day 10: Fungus**

Everyone had heard of the Hanaki disease; coughing up flowers when someone fell ill with unrequited love.  
Deaths from it weren’t as common anymore, as the surgery to remove the roots of the flowers, and thus the love they sprouted from, became a popular way to deal with the painful disease.  
But not everyone had flowers.  
Some had butterflies, others had seashells, there had even been a few cases of feathers.  
Those were riskier surgeries, and there was a bigger chance they wouldn’t get all of it.

Fungus, however, was the most dangerous.  
It acted faster, and if you had managed to have toxic mushrooms growing inside of your lungs, then it was only a matter of time before the toxins shut down your body completely.  
And, worst of all, the spores could be in more places than just your lungs, making the surgery ineffective.

So when Toby coughed up a glowing toadstool into the sink, she nearly had a panic attack.  
She curled up on the tile under the fluorescent lights, letting her sobs and tears fill her empty apartment.  
It was only a matter of time now.

She knew she should have stopped her emotions when they started, but the smoke always means fire. When her heart would skip when she saw him, and she couldn’t seem to stop smiling in his presence, she knew it was too late.

Toby sniffled as she ran out of tears. She was really only left with one option.  
She opened up her phone and scrolled to her contacts.  
When she found the name with a heart beside it, she froze.  
Her fingers trembled as she hardly pressed his name.  
When the dial tone began, she could feel the lump growing in her throat.  
“Yo! Toby!”  
He picked up after the second tone.  
“H-hey F-Fitz…”  
She managed to mumble, hating how rough and broken her voice sounded.  
He paused before there was a shuffle on his end.  
“Hey, are you crying? Is everything okay?”  
“I...I…”  
She couldn’t seem to get the words out. What did she think she was going to tell her best friend?  
Hey, I’m dying because I love you. Can you please love me back?  
“Deep breaths, Tobes,”  
Fitz soothed, his voice gentle as he tried to help.  
Toby scrunched her eyes closed. She could feel more tears and sobs rising.  
“I… just wanted you to know…”  
She attempted, her voice the equivalent of broken glass.  
Fitz hesitated for a moment before mumbling,  
“Know what?”  
As her sobs began to tear themselves out, Toby hung up.  
Fitz tried to call her several times after that, but she couldn’t answer him.  
She’d just cry again, and he’d get more worried and-  
It just wasn’t worth it.

Toby stopped leaving her apartment.  
She stopped eating.  
Stopped sleeping.  
She lost the will to do anything but feel as the inside of her body was devoured by the fungus.  
She coughed up bloody toadstools and mushrooms, wanting to vomit what little water she had in her system every time she felt them slink up her throat.

After week two, her phone that she had let die the first day, was plugged in.  
She was so weak.  
So dead.  
She just wanted to watch a video and listen to his voice.

When it rang, she answered without reading the name.  
“Toby? Oh thank god…”  
She could hear him gasp with relief.  
She wondered why.  
“Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since you called me and you wouldn’t answer your phone, your tweets- not even your door! What’s going on?”  
Toby just closed her eyes and listened to his voice. Curled up on her bed just like she had been on the bathroom floor.  
Bloody multicolored fungus littered the bed and floor.  
“Toby? Please answer me! I- I need to know you’re there!”  
He waited a few seconds before he grew desperate.  
“Tobes, please. I… I need to tell you something, but I have to know you’re there.”

Toby opened her eyes, staring at the paused screen of her laptop.  
It was an old stream, so she could see his face.  
She stared at it as he began to cry into the phone.  
The sound shattered her overgrown heart.  
Tears watered the glowing, colorful mushrooms that began to sprout on her body.

“I’m dying.”  
Toby finally managed to mutter.  
Her throat was raw from her crying, her voice ragged.  
It scared her more.  
“You’re… Toby I…”  
Toby flinched at his hesitation.  
She didn’t want to hear him sad.  
She didn’t want to remember him as terrified and broken.  
“It’s… fine.”  
She mumbled. It was getting harder to hold the phone.  
She could feel the fungus pressing against her skin, ready to breach and take her body as their home.  
Her breathing grew ragged as a familiar feeling closed her throat.  
She didn’t have enough strength to cough.  
“I love you Fitz…”  
She managed to wheeze.  
She stared at his face on the screen.  
One last tear dripped down her face as her hand fell slack.  
The phone slipped down her face as the colored toadstools breached her skin.

“Toby?”  
Fitz asked after a long moment.  
“Toby!”  
He called out, his shoulders slumping as he realized he never told her.  
The words were still on the tip of his toungue when-  
Something itched the back of his throat.  
He coughed and hacked until the object fell into the sink below him.  
When he looked down, he gasped at the pink mushroom.  
Blood dripped off its edges.

It was still unrequited if she was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm behind! I'll be catching up today and tomorrow <3


	12. Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Psychological**)

Day 11: Glow

The world was dark.  
It had been for so long.  
After the clouds of ash and smog had blanketed the sky, there was no more sun.  
After the electricity went out, there were no lights.  
It was so cold.

Nobody knew how many people were still alive.  
Everyone wandered lost until they tumbled off a cliff or starved to death.  
Everyone relied on sound.  
A waterfall meant water.  
A crash of glass and a scream meant someone fell off a building.  
The scuff of feet meant you weren’t alone.  
At first, fires and other pockets of light were frequent.  
Then, one by one, those who entered the light were taken away and never seen again.  
Lights became a death omen.  
Blackness became the only comfort.

Evan wandered through the blackness, staying where he thought cover was and eating what he hoped was food.  
He found a couple bottles of what he prayed to be water, and drank them greedily.  
In a land of pitch, it was common for your eyes to trick you.  
To see things that didn’t exist.  
Things that were impossible.

He wasn’t sure how bad he looked.  
He wasn’t sure how far he had wandered from his home.  
He wasn’t sure whether what he had been eating was expired or not.  
He was lost.  
In every possible way.

How far did one have to be lost before they gave up?  
Was he supposed to give up ages ago?  
How much time had passed?  
Days? Months? Years?  
He only had one motivation: to walk.  
If you walked, no one could find you except for your footsteps.  
If you heard footsteps you stopped.  
No one could find you.  
You could stumble and crawl where you needed to.  
No one could find you if you kept walking.  
Walking aimlessly into the endless abyss.  
Walking for eternity through hell.

How did he know he was dead?  
Was he already dead?  
Was he the only survivor?

He didn’t know.  
He walked until he was hungry.  
Searched until he was exhausted.  
There were no more supplies he could find.  
He curled up on what he believed to be a dog bed because he couldn’t find a real one in the rubble.  
When he woke up.  
Or maybe when he started walking again, he saw something.  
Something that wasn’t blackness.  
Something other than the endless hell and empty void.  
It was glowing.  
It changed color.  
It changed shape.  
And it was _glowing_.  
It gave off light, and despite the death he knew it would bring…  
He craved it.  
He ran toward the glow.  
His steps echoed around him.  
Or maybe other people were running toward it too.  
He tripped over something and slammed his face into what felt like broken glass.  
He got up as fast as he could and started running again.  
He ran faster than he ever had in his life.  
He needed the glow.  
He craved the light.  
If he was not next to the glowing, he would die.  
He knew it.  
He was going to die if he did not have the glow.

He ran and ran and ran.  
He heard someone fall.  
The steps nearby grew louder.  
Someone begged for the glow to take them.  
Evan ran and the glow got closer.  
He didn’t know if he was crying or if blood was dripping down his face.  
As he neared the glow, he slowed.  
He stared in awe.  
In _love_.  
He was in love with it.  
With its shape and the many different colors it changed to.  
He loved every color.

When he was about to touch it, the glow blinked out.


	13. Lost Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Gun violence, burglary, insanity**)

**Day 12: Hallucinations**

It started with a butterfly.  
A butterfly Ohm would _always_ believe to be real despite whatever everyone else saw.  
He had been grocery shopping when the blue-winged insect fluttered into sight. He smiled at it as he grabbed some Rice-a-roni, watching it flap a few times before getting back to his shopping.  
Then, he saw it while recording and giggled as he watched it fly around his room. He only wondered how it had gotten in a moment before refocusing on the game.  
The next time he was streaming, and mentioned it to chat as he waited for DBD to load. He watched both the butterfly and chat’s reactions until the game was ready.

After that, it was Tiny.   
He would see the small dog _everywhere_, especially where he could never be.  
In the store he would see his little tail, and he would hear the clatter of his claws on the floor in _every_ game, no matter what room Tiny was in   
What scared him the most was the time he thought a piece of roadkill was his beloved dog.

And then it was a cat.  
A cat that would meow loud enough to wake him up at 3 AM, whose tail he would see flicking on every shelf, and who would knock down every cup on his counter. And yet, when he went to clean the mess, he realized all the cups were still fine where he had left them.

It reached its peak when he heard a snarling at the store with no source.  
When he heard police sirens trying to pull him over the whole drive home with no lights.  
When he heard Tiny yelping in pain and found the puppy sleeping as the whimper and cry echoed through the house.  
When he was recording, he would hear his friends talking when they weren’t, and the game noises would follow him for hours after he had closed it.

He stopped playing games.  
Stopped leaving for the store.  
Let a friend watch Tiny for a while.

And yet, in the silence he created, all he heard was impending doom for himself and everyone he loved.  
Crashing of glass.  
Whirs of chainsaws.  
Deafening gunshots.  
Screams.  
Cries.  
He couldn’t sleep.  
Nothing would stop.  
Nothing was quiet.  
When he saw the burglar pointing a weapon, he didn’t know it was real.  
Not until the bullet wedged itself in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short


	14. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Burning and hanging. Hate crimes. Brief homophobia.**)
> 
> -
> 
> _So sorry I've been behind! As an apology, this one is a lot longer than usual so I hope you enjoy!___

**Day 13: Witch**

The village sat in a valley, swallowed by hills that allowed the sun to cast it in golden light.  
The people were quiet and normal.  
Nothing weird ever happened.

When a house fell ill with the White Death, there was only one survivor.  
A boy, about 5 years old.  
An elderly man named Fitz took him in, smiling all while he grew.  
When the boy brought home a kitten from the edge of the nearby river, Fitz let him keep it.

Mason and his little black kitten, Jay.

The two were near inseparable, and Fitz had even caught the boy speaking to the cat like they could understand each other.  
When Mason was 9, Fitz was knitting in the living room when the boy ran inside with the now-grown cat.  
“Fitz! Fitz! Look what I can do!”  
He looked over his needles and smiled at Mason when he turned toward Jay.  
The boy scrunched his eyes and whispered something under his breath.  
The cat beside him… started glowing.  
And then it was another boy.  
He had shaggy black hair, and his eyes were still amber-colored, but the cat had become a _boy_!

Fitz cleared his throat and said,  
“Masey, you need to turn him back.”  
Mason had been grinning ear-to-ear at him, but his face dropped at the caretaker’s words.  
“What? Why?”  
“Because…”  
He hesitated. He didn’t want to scare him-  
“Okay. You can play with him at home. But whenever you two leave, he stays a cat. Understand?”  
Mason and Jay both lit up, and Mason ran over to the old man.  
“Thank you, Fitz!”  
He cheered before turning back to the new boy.  
“Come on Jay! To my room!”

Jay attempted to run, nearly falling several times before he made it to the stairs.  
Fitz closed his eyes and looked up.  
He hoped he didn’t sin.

Everything continued as normal.  
For a little while.  
Jay got used to being human more often, and Mason had even taught him a few words in English. He seemed to prefer being silent though.  
Fitz eventually let Jay and Mason play outside with the other boys, especially as Jay seemed to grow more human than cat by the day.  
He still spotted the black feline curled up on Mason’s feet at night though.

When Mason was 13, the other boys began seeking out the girls in the village. He didn’t much care for them, preferring Jay to the other teens.  
That was when the insults started.

Fitz had made sure Mason wouldn’t change Jay in front of the other kids, but he didn’t know he would grow stronger.  
When a group of boys were calling him a _fairy_ and other horrible things, Mason was fed up with it. They were by a river, boy Jay hiding behind Mason as the other boys threatened to push him.  
“I wish you would just drown!”  
Mason shouted at the boy in front.  
Then, the boy was gone.  
Thrown into the suddenly fast-flowing water by an invisible force and screaming as he was dragged away.

When Mason turned back toward the other boys, they all left screaming.  
Then the rumors started.  
“He’s a witch!”  
“He killed my son!”  
“Where did the other boy come from?”  
“What if they’re both witches?”

Fitz didn’t let them leave the house anymore.  
Jay would yell at Mason if he made him human.  
He wanted to stay a cat.  
Mason would spend countless hours staring out the window, Jay curled up beside him.  
Fitz missed the two boy’s bright smiles.

When there was a knock on the door, Fitz hated that he wasn’t surprised to see the local priest.  
“Good evening, Sir,”  
He grinned. Fitz knew him as Father Brock.  
“Father,”  
He greeted,  
“What brings you here?”  
“I’m sure you’re aware of the rumors. I’ve come only to make sure they aren’t true.”  
Fitz nodded, then let the man inside. He sent up a prayer that the two boys would be on their best behavior.

When Father Brock came inside he looked around before saying,  
“I will be honest. I am not too worried. I know you are a righteous man and would have told me if there was something wrong with the boy. Am I right?”  
Fitz nodded.  
“Of course, Father.”  
Father Brock clapped his hands together with a bright and friendly smile.  
“Great! Now, where is this boy?”  
Fitz peeked down the hallway to his room, seeing the boy already peering from his door.  
“Come here Masey,”  
He called,  
“You know Father Brock. He brought you to me when you were little!”  
Mason slipped out of the room, conveniently closing it behind him so Jay couldn’t follow.  
“H-Hello, Father.”  
“Hello, son,”  
Brock said, his smile still bright as ever,  
“I wish I was here for a better reason, but I’m afraid there have been some rumors surrounding you. Now, I have to ask you a couple of questions. Do you promise to be honest?”  
Mason glanced at Fitz, who nodded behind the priest. Mason nodded as well.  
“Good,”  
Father Brock said, walking toward one of the couches,  
“Why don’t you have a seat then?”  
Mason hesitated, but still moved to sit down.  
Fitz joined them.

“Now,”  
Brock started,  
“Has anything weird happened lately? Anything that didn’t seem very normal?”  
Mason shook his head,  
“No, Father.”  
“What about with the boy that drowned? Craig? How did he fall in?”  
“He- he slipped.”  
“I see. No one pushed him?”  
“No, Father.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yes, Father.”

_Mrrrow!_  
The room fell silent at the meow. Father Brock looked around in confusion before asking,  
“Do you have a cat?”  
“Yes,”  
Fitz spoke before Mason could,  
“He must just be locked away in a room somewhere. We’ll get him later.”  
“Oh it’s fine,”  
Father Brock chuckled,  
“I love pets. In fact, I would love to meet him!”

“Oh well, I-”  
“I’ll go get him!”  
Mason chirped excitedly, cutting Fitz off.  
Mason was soon standing back in the living room holding the bundle of black fur, the feline staring at Father Brock with his bright amber eyes.  
The priest was silent for a moment before he stood up.  
“Where did you find this cat, son?”  
“He was left in a bag by the river. I didn’t want him to be harmed, so I brought him home!”  
Father Brock nodded stiffly before taking a deep breath.  
“Sir, I’m sure you are aware of the luck black cats bring to the household. If you would like, I can take the cat to somewhere he would be happy, and then the town will know your boy is nothing of interest.”  
Mason stared at Father Brock for a long while before shaking his head.  
“No. You’re not taking Jay from me.”  
Father Brock sighed before turning toward the boy.  
“Son, I know how hard this will be, but soon you will be able to have friends again! You will be able to fall in love! You’ll have a family of your own! And then you’ll forget all about the old cat.”

As he spoke, the priest was taking steps toward him until Jay was cowering in Mason’s arms.  
He reached out for the feline.  
“It will all be alright…”  
He soothed the boy. Mason stared at him with wide-eyes.  
When Jay was out of his arms, Mason began to whimper.  
“No… no, Father, please!”

“For the good of the town!”  
Father Brock said cheerfully.  
Mason’s quivering chin stilled as he glared at the priest.  
“No.”  
“I’m sorry?”  
The priest had opened the door and was about to leave. Jay was writhing in his grip.  
“No. Jay is my family! I don’t need anyone but Jay and Fitz! **Give me Jay back**!”  
There was a harsh wind, and then the cat was torn from Father Brock’s grip and into Mason’s arms. 

“Witch…”  
Brock gasped, backing out the door,  
“Sinners,”  
He hissed, hurrying out the door,  
“Only the fires can save you now!”

Fitz slammed the door shut.  
When he turned around, Jay was a boy.  
“I-I was so scared Masey…”  
The naked boy whined. He was gripping Mason’s tunic as tears rolled down his face.  
“I know, I’ll keep us safe Jay.”  
Fitz watched them for a moment before pressing a kiss to both of his children's heads.  
“I’ll make us some sweets,”  
He mumbled before shuffling toward the kitchen.

They only had one day of peace before their sleep was tattered by pounding on the door.  
When Fitz looked out the window, he could see pitchforks and torches illuminating the faces of the other villagers in a harsh orange light.  
Their screams and cries mad him rush toward his sons.

“Burn the witch!”  
“Hang the caregiver!”

Their chants grew more aggressive as they started bashing through the door.  
When Fitz entered the boys’ room, they were staring at him with wide tear-filled eyes.  
The crashes on the door grew louder.  
“I’m scared dad…”  
Mason whimpered, holding Jay tightly as Fitz kneeled beside their bed.  
The word made his heart shatter further than the terror he couldn’t protect them from.  
“I know Masey,”  
He whispered, kissing his forehead,  
“Everything will be okay. We’ll be together and happy forever in a little bit, so don’t be scared. I’ll always be with you.”  
Mason nodded slowly, flinching as the splintering of the door grew louder.  
“Can’t… can’t we run away?”  
Fitz shook his head.  
“They’ll just find us again.”  
Mason’s shoulders fell, and tears streaked down his cheeks. He turned to look at Jay.  
“Jay is fast… can’t he run away?”  
Fitz was silent for a moment before looking at the other boy.  
“If you want to, Mason can turn you into a cat and you can run away. Would you like that?”  
Jay stared wide-eyed at Fitz, then back at Mason.  
His golden eyes were nearly glowing.  
“I-”  
The door shattered.  
The screams and chants grew several times louder as the people flooded the home.  
The smoke masked the smell of freshly baked sweets.  
Fitz was grabbed by several people before they were dragging him out.  
He only got a glimpse of the two boys before they were yanked out of sight.

Fitz didn’t resist, he couldn’t even if he had wanted. His body was old and the men dragging him away were much younger and stronger.  
There was a gallows in the town square.  
It was stark black against the silver of the moonlight.  
When the men hefted him onto the platform, he stared across the mob for his children.  
He ignored the rope being draped across his neck when he saw Mason being carried out of their home.  
Crimson and gold flames began to lick at the walls of the building.  
Jay was nowhere in sight.

His heart began to race and his stomach dropped.  
Where was Jay?  
Where was his other son?

Mason was being hefted toward a stake and pile of wood.  
Mason thrashed against their grips, but they held him still long enough to tie him to the stake.  
Fitz felt his own hands being tied behind him.  
He still couldn’t find Jay in the chaos.

“Burn the witch!”  
“Hang the caregiver!”

The chants raised into the sky like the people were pleading for grace.  
Their voices were begging for forgiveness for allowing Mason to live as long as he did.  
Fitz looked up and stared at the moon.  
His heart burned with a rage hotter than the torches that neared Mason.  
“If God sees it a sin to raise my son, then let me burn in hell for all eternity,”  
He spat.

“So be it,”  
Said one of the men beside him.  
The floor dropped from beneath his feet.

Jay stared from where he was perched in a tree.  
His home was aflame and the smoke billowed like storm clouds.  
The man who had allowed him to stay, his father, hung like a broken branch.  
The boy who saved his life, who taught him how wonderful life could be…  
His brother, now burned like their home.  
He pinned his ears back so he wouldn’t have to listen to the screams of his family and the chants of the evil people there.

He leaped down from the tree and ran away.  
Far from the smoke.  
Far from the fire.  
Far from the people who had taken away his life.

When he couldn’t run anymore, he collapsed.  
His lungs hurt.  
His paws throbbed.  
His heart felt like it had shattered hundreds of times over.  
“Jay…”  
The cat looked around.  
He knew that voice.  
“Jay.”  
The black feline stood on wobbly paws.  
It…it couldn’t be…  
“Jay!”  
A pale and glowing figure ran toward Jay, and the feline leaped up to run toward the boy.  
Jay leaped into Mason’s arms, purring as loud as he could as the boy squeezed him.  
_I love you Mason,___  
Jay thought, hoping the ghost could hear him,  
_I’m sorry I never told you sooner.___  
“I love you too Jay,”  
Mason whispered, and Jay nuzzled against his chest.  
A larger figure joined the hug, and when the two looked up they hardly recognized him.  
“Fitz?”  
Mason asked, staring wide-eyed at the other ghost.  
“I told you we’d be together,”  
Fitz said with a smile, pressing a kiss to both of their foreheads.

_ _ __ _ _

_ __ _

_ _As the ghosts walked away, Jay curled up in Mason’s arms.  
He may not be a ghost, but if they could stay together forever, he’ll never scared and alone again._ _


	15. Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Mentions of muder**)

**Day 14: Skeletons**

The moon was high in the sky as the neighborhood buzzed with excitement.  
Decorations littered the lawns of every house, each one placed with care to ensure they looked perfect.  
Every house wanted to win the competition.

Evan was sure he would win this year.  
“Hey, Evan!”  
Called out a voice. When the man turned he saw Jonathan, running up with a huge smile.  
“D-do you think you’re g-gonna win again?”  
“Only if your decorations are as shit as last year’s,”  
Evan said with a smirk. Jon punched him in the shoulders and mumbled,  
“You damned bitch.”  
Evan laughed before looking down the street where Jonathan lived.  
It was mainly clowns, like a twisted circus as they juggled chainsaws and large swords.  
“I dunno, maybe that house will win this year.”  
“R-really? You think so?”  
Jon asked excitedly, his voice hopeful as they watched the judge move closer.  
“I was talking about Luke. You have no chance.”  
“Hootchie!”  
Jon hissed, crossing his arms with a pout.  
Evan smiled at his friend before giving his own yard a once-over.  
It was full of skeletons.

Dog skeletons and bat bones, all littered amongst the human remains that filled his yard like a murder scene.  
He knew he would win again.

When the judge awarded him the trophy, Evan bowed and insisted his unworthiness before taking it back home.  
As the crowd around his house dissolved, Evan placed the trophy with the rest of them.  
He smiled brightly as he looked at his collection.

Nobody could figure out how to make the decorations terrify someone to their core except him.  
And it all had to do with realism.  
And everyone knew the bones at the store were clearly too plastic to be real.

So Evan made his own decorations.  
His own bones.  
His own skeletons.

And that was how he won every year.  
When people could approach the corpses of their long-gone neighbors and _sense_ the familiarity in the skull.  
When the blood that dripped down their ribs seemed _so real_.

And if he didn’t win next year, he would have to get fresher decorations.


	16. Only The Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Really gruesome. Like, seriously the most messed up thing I’ve ever written.**)

**Day 15: Blood**

Everyone always complained about not having enough blood.  
So many people bleeding out after The Tragedy.  
So many people not grateful for their sacrifice.  
Delirious didn’t understand it.

All those people wasting their precious blood from gunshots and knives.  
So much was wasted on the roads.  
In the rooms of houses.  
So much wasted.  
Delirious didn’t want anyone else to waste it.

If anyone cried out then he took it from them.  
That made him very kind.  
He was so kind and generous to take away their misery.

There were many bodies just lying about with unused and clean blood.  
Those were his favorites.  
He didn’t like when they had company.  
Friends and family who screamed and wept when he took the perfect blood.  
It was fine with him though, he would take from them until they didn’t have any more to give either.

Back home, he stored the perfect blood in perfect bodies.  
He had stitched and sewn them until they were perfect.  
He topped off a few of the bodies, saving the best for last.  
“Here you are Evan, I got some for you too.”  
He poured the vials into the pump before turning it on.  
His body seemed to come to life for just a moment.  
Jonathan could almost see the color in his eyes again.

Then he began to leak again.  
Blood streamed from empty eyes like tears.  
Dark crimson and scarlet dripping from his nose and ears.  
Delirious heard a small pop as another vein burst from the pressure.  
He tisked as he punctured another needle into the bottom of Evan’s feet.  
Blood pooled like an overwatered plant as Delirious turned the pump off.  
“I hope you enjoyed that,”  
Del cooed, kissing Evan’s cold lips tenderly.  
“Only the best for you.”


	17. Cries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Death**)

Day 16: Crow

Moonlight shone dimly through the window.  
Stars were hardly visible through the dark cloud cover.  
A clock ticked to 12:02 AM.  
A crow let out a series of caws from somewhere nearby.

An infant slept peacefully in her crib.  
A faint pink glow emitted from a small nightlight.  
A husband and wife slept soundly in their bed.

Cries erupted down the hall, and the parents blearily blinked awake.  
“It’s your turn, Brock,”  
The wife mumbled before pulling the blankets closer to her.  
Brock sighed, but rolled out of bed.

As he opened the door to their daughter’s room, he paused.  
The baby was still asleep, snoring ever so quietly.  
The cries continued.  
Brock silently shut the door, then peered down the dark hallway.  
He followed the cries to the stairs, where they seeped from the blackness.

He hurried back to his and Lauren’s room, grabbing a flashlight from a drawer before glancing back at his wife.  
She had fallen back asleep.  
_She needs her sleep._  
He smiled, kissing his wife’s head before leaving to investigate.

He flicked the flashlight on, only allowing him a small beacon of sight in the otherwise complete darkness.  
The cries still shrieked and cried for attention.  
He searched the living room, the light ghosting over the sofa and lamp. He tried to flick the lamp on, but nothing happened other than the click of the switch.  
Whatever was crying, let out a particularly loud shriek.  
Brock swiveled the flashlight toward the sound, realizing it was coming from the kitchen.

When his flashlight landed on the fridge, a chill ran over him.  
He could hear the wind whistling outside.  
A tree groaned in protest to the fall breeze.  
Brock shone his flashlight on the window above the sink, the glass shattered and glittering on the floor from where it caught the reflection of the flashlight.  
The crying was very loud now, to the point of making Brock’s eardrums feel like they would burst.  
He pointed the flashlight at the island counter and froze.

It was a crow, settled on the granite with glass around it like a crude nest.  
It stared at him and shrieked again.  
It slowly stood, ruffling its feathers before tilting its head at him.  
“Brocky, is something wrong?”  
It sounded just like Lauren.  
And yet it had come from the bird.  
“Brocky…”  
The bird cooed again, flapping its wings as it used his wife’s voice.  
“Oh Brocky…”  
The bird began to transform.  
Its feathers hardened to scales.  
Its black eyes started to glow yellow.  
Fangs grew and sharpened from its beak.  
“My poor… poor Brocky…”  
Lauren’s voice grew more corrupted with each word as the creature began to tower over the man.

Brock screamed and the flashlight fell from his grip.  
The beam of light rolled with the flashlight as it clattered over the broken glass.  
Blood stained the light red as the house fell silent.


	18. Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (**Warning: Death**)
> 
> (This is my favorite of all the shorts so far! Hope you enjoy <3)

Day 17: Graveyard

Early snow glittered in the moonlight.  
The gentle flakes fell delicately to the ground, dappling the crisp gold leaves that were scattered across the town.  
Most of the townsfolk were asleep, except for the occasional late-night shift worker.

The local graveyard was silent.  
The flowers that were left near gravestones were sprinkled with snowflakes, the bright white taking away the splash of color the flowers brought.  
It didn’t take long for the cemetery to be drenched in grayscale.  
There was a quiet crunch of snow underfoot as a dark figure neared a line of headstones.  
As he appeared under one of the lights amidst the graveyard, his bright eyes narrowed onto one headstone in particular.  
He wore a black suit, his blonde hair slicked back to sharpen his countenance if his height didn’t intimidate someone enough.

He stopped in front of the headstone he had spotted, and read the inscription on the stone.  
_Jonathan Dennis_  
_May 2nd 1987 - October 17th 2019_  
_May his soul rest in peace_  
The man read the script one more time before lowering his head.  
“I’m sorry.”  
He said it quietly. Quiet enough to be taken by the wind and the snow if it wished to be.  
And yet the apology held little remorse.

The man lifted his head to look down his nose at the grave.  
“I’m sorry your death was worth so much to my client. But thank you for extra cash, Lord knows I needed it.”  
The man pulled out a business card from his suitcoat before kneeling beside the headstone. It read:  
_Tyler Wine_  
_Hired Assasin_

“To remember me by,”  
Tyler said with a smile, tucking the card into the recently moved soil and into the ground where he knew it would never be found.  
He stood back up and brushed off his suit, tucking his hands into his pockets before walking back out of the cemetery.

As Tyler retraced his footprints in the snow, the light to the entrance of the graveyard flicked off.  
He squinted at the light when the next light further in also turned off.  
One by one, all the lights in the graveyard turned off.  
Tyler’s heart began to race.  
The only light still on was the one above Jonathan’s grave.

Tyler turned around to stare at the grave and the light above it when the snow in front of the headstone began to shift.  
It began to move and bubble, like it was coming _alive_...  
And then a hand reached out.  
Tyler was frozen in place as the hand levered itself against the ground, pulling the rest of its body up and out of the heaving pile of soil and snow.  
The rich brown was stark against the gray and white landscape.  
Tyler stared in shock as the man he had killed brushed himself off.  
He hadn’t been dead enough to start decomposing, but his skin was paler than it had been.  
He looked like he could still be alive if it wasn’t for the bullet hole in his skull.  
Tyler moved to take a step back when Jon stopped.  
He looked up and they locked eyes.  
Jonathan’s were bright azure, and _glowing_. His smile split wide he recognized Tyler.  
He looked inhuman.  
And the fangs that now filled his mouth were sharpened as much as some of Tyler’s knives.  
.  
.  
“M̵̨̟͕͔̭̭̜̦̘̑͌́̓̑̃͒͋̊͞ͅĭ̴̛͍͕̻̹̝̀͑̃ş̨̼̱͍̖͎̯̼̃͊̄̈̋̋͟s̵̡̨̮̯͓̰͉̯̣̃̉̃̋́͗͝ m̶̢̤͍͖͙̹͔̏̿̾̐̓͛̾͢e̵̲̦͉̹̱̊̋̂͐̏̂̓?͇̰͚̹̪̮̳̜͚̣͋̐̎͂̍̈́͞”

The monster hissed, meandering closer to Tyler.  
The assassin stared for a second, then bolted.  
But not fast enough.  
Even if he could see well enough to not trip over the scattered other headstones, the snow slowed him down significantly.  
He glanced back to see Jonathan on all fours, his fingers twisted into claws as he leaped for Tyler.  
His claws dug into the assassin’s shoulder, then begun dragging him back toward the open grave.  
“No… no please… I had to kill you! It’s the only job I could get! Please!”  
Tyler begged the monster to release him, and even with his training, the monster’s grip was tighter than steel.  
It was bone-breaking.  
Tyler whimpered and thrashed against Jonathan’s claws, but the gaping hole of the grave grew steadily slower.  
His hands left deep grooves in the snow.  
His fingers were pricked by several stones, and blood streaked the bright whiteness.  
When they reached the grave, Jonathan picked the man up by his broken shoulder and held him above the pit.  
The coffin stood open and waiting for hi.

“No! Please!”  
Tyler shrieked as he tried to squirm out of the monster’s grip.  
Jon chuckled before crowing,

"̴̡̖̱͈̰͑̐̍̈́̇͊̓͡T̷̼͇̞̘͕̹͛̆̐̿̏͠ȋ̧̭̩̺̱̠͙̘̙̅̑̌̇̅̚̚͡͡m̸̢̨̟̮̬͚̘͈͋̐͆͐͛̑̍̃e̴̡̢̝̦̥͍̣͐̉͐̓̉̓̔͗͘͢͠ͅ ẗ̡̘͓̗̩̭͚̝́̄͑̕͜͞͡o̶̱͇͕̻̙̘̫͂͗͋̇̓͑͢͡ ş̴̪̩͕͍̈͆̃͒͂́̄͆̌l͈̝͔̮̣̫̺̎́͗̉̔̈́͘͢͞ͅę̸̟̬͓̦͆̌̏͋̈ͅe̸̡̧͈̰̳͕̐̿̏̓͌͢p̴̘͖̯͈͈̰̖̈́̍̕͠,̨͓͕̥̻̠̩̽͋̇̓͘͝ a̝̖̤̻̱̒̂̑̆͋͒̐͋͜ș̶̢̰͖̯̼̮̌̏͂̒̒̏̆̿͘ͅs̸͍̪̭͈̩̲͌͊̂͒̉̂̐̂̕͟ͅa̶̧̳͍͉͉̤͓̯͗̀̓̐̄̉͘͟͞ş̡̙͖̳̂̔̀̐̕̕ͅş͓̳̪̻͚̩̱̍͆̇̐̒͢͟i̶̡̜̯̳̼̘͙̐͋̌̏̆͒n̘̟̤͖̟͐̂̇́̈̕.̧̫̙̪͔͕̘̬̭̯̂̔̈́̀͋̈"̢̼̫̝̥̼͖̜̖͛̆̀̇͐͗̓̒̕͜͝

Tyler screamed as he was dropped into the grave.  
Jonathan jumped in after the assassin, and the ground moved back to swallow them both.  
Tyler’s screams were muffled by six feet of soil.  
Blood dripped off of a business card that sat atop undisturbed snow.  
The graves in front of it read,

_Jonathan Dennis_  
_May 2nd 1987 - October 15th 2019_  
_May his soul rest in peace_

_Tyler Wine_  
_September 14th 1992 - October 17th 2019_  
_Taken for his crimes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two creepy dialogue are  
"_Miss me?_"  
and  
"_Time to sleep, assassin._"


End file.
